Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 78487 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78487 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
“Why do you want your stepdaddy dead, anyway?” I ask and immediately regret it. I should be walking out the door, not engaging with her. But she’s got my attention, and for reasons beyond my understanding, I’m finding it hard to walk away.
“Because he hurt me.”
Her words send a sharp sting into my very core.
She doesn’t need to explain any further. The pain in her voice tells me what he did to her. But as much as the thought of any man hurting a woman in that way sends a wave of red-hot anger through me, I can’t be drawn in by it. Because those days are behind me, and when I left Boston, I swore they were behind me for good. So I’m not the guy she’s looking for.
“I’m sorry,” I say.
“I don’t want you to be sorry, I want you to help me.”
She’s trying to cover her pain with her fierce expression and ballsy body language, but she can’t hide it from her vibrant eyes. The blue fire in them burns bright.
But I have to walk away—I need to walk away.
“It’s been a real pleasure meeting you, Rory,” I say softly. “But I can’t help you.”
Her face is tight, and I can read the rejection in her expression. But she doesn’t try to sway me. I have a feeling this girl would set fire to herself before she begged anyone for anything.
With a simple nod, she slides off her stool. “Thanks for the drink.”
I watch her walk away before I settle the bill and collect tonight’s earnings from Oscar.
Outside, light rain is falling.
From the corner of my eye, I see Rory crouched by her car, attempting to change her tire. She’s trying to get the nut off, but her hand keeps slipping off because of the rain.
Keep walking, my instincts say.
Just. Keep. Walking
But that’s not who I am.
Despite being someone who puts bullets into men’s skulls, I also happen to be a gentleman, and it just happens that helping a woman in distress is hardwired into my DNA.
I walk over to her. “Need help?”
She doesn’t bother to look up, and it’s obvious she’s pissed at me. “Nope.”
Again, her hand slips when the stubborn tire nut refuses to budge.
“That’s one way to break a wrist,” I say.
Which she ignores.
Yep, she’s pissed at me.
It starts to rain harder, and within seconds, she looks like a drowned rat, but she keeps battling with the nut.
“Look, let me help you.”
“Oh, so now you want to help me?”
“If you’d stop being a stubborn ass and let me, yes.”
She straightens and glares at me. She really is cute. “Oh, that’s rich, now I’m the stubborn ass.” She goes back to battling with the tire nut, and again, it slips. Any second and she’s going to bruise or break something.
With a growl, I hoist her up into my arms, and before she can start kicking and screaming, I plonk her onto the hood of her car.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” she yells.
“Saving you from your own stubborn ass.”
“My stubborn…” She slides off the hood and thrusts her hands to her hips. “For your information, Thor, I don’t need saving.”
“Kind of looked like you did. And the name is Ares.” I flick the nut off and rise to my feet. “But both were Gods, so I can see where you’d make the mistake.”
Her eyebrow lifts, and she folds her arms. “Arrogant and stubborn, how lucky can a girl get?”
“Listen, sweetheart—”
“Rory, my name is Rory.”
“Listen, Rory, this can go one of two ways. We can stand here arguing in the rain all night, or you can say thank you kind stranger for helping me out and let me get the fuck on with it. Either way, I’m changing this goddamn tire.”
She finally sees reason and backs down. “By all means, knock yourself out.” She folds her arms. “And by that, I mean literally.”
Her glare is adorable.
“Stubborn and hilarious,” I mutter as I crouch beside the car.
In minutes, I have the tire replaced and the flat stored in the trunk.
We’re both soaked now.
“Thank you,” she says.
I mock gasp. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”
She rolls her eyes. “Now who’s hilarious?”
Suddenly conscious of her wet tank top and how it clings to her firm breasts and taut nipples, she folds her arms across her chest..
But it’s too late. I’ve already noticed.
“Just so you know, I’m still not asking you to sleep with me,” she says.
“Good, because I’m still not interested.”
A smile tugs at her lips.
And surprisingly, one tugs at mine.
Her smile turns into a grin. “But I am grateful, thank you.”
“Pleased to be at your service.”
She opens the car door but pauses. “Want to grab a coffee? It’s the least I can do to say thank you.”
I think about it for a second or two. I want to but I shake my head. “Maybe next time.”